Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Over the next two days, the house bustled with preparations for the several departures of the guests. Adele and little Margaret became wonderful playmates within ten minutes of being introduced and were given leave several times to follow their mothers here and there about the house to catch glimpses of the fine ladies and gentlemen.

Georgie had striven to keep her children out of her guests' ways, but once news of Adele's arrival had gone through the house, the young ladies of the party had asked leave to take an airing with the two little girls and had instantly fallen in love with them. Adele and Margaret had come back inside with flower chains braided into circlets around their heads and necks, declaring that they wished to be just like the three beautiful ladies when they grew up.

After that, they, and Margaret's older brother John, were given leave to wander about the house more freely and intermingle with the guests during tea on the last day. John soon tired of the attention and was taken away by his nurse, but the girls delighted in the play and endeared themselves to everyone with their determination to mind their manners. Their efforts to play like they were all grown up, answering any questions put to them with a dignity that was at once comical and beyond the scope of their tender years, amused everyone.

Everyone, that was, except Basil. The older men of the party tended toward fatherly indulgence with the girls. Even Mr. Stratham and Mr. Camden took their presence in good part. Basil would only stare at them from time to time before ignoring them entirely.

Evangeline would take motherly umbrage at this if she was not so puzzled by it. No disdain or irritation could be detected in his countenance. When he looked at the girls, Adele in particular, it seemed to Evangeline that his mind wandered to some far-off place. She could not make sense of it.

One thing she did know. Since Adele had come to Fernsby Hall, Basil did not wish to have anything to do with Evangeline either. They had not spoken of their last kiss in the garden. Any conversation put to him by her in company was met with a cool distance that stung. It was plain. Adele's coming had brought to light clear proof that Basil did not like children. And since Evangeline had seven, she found it impossible to think that he could like her as well as she thought he did. Certainly not with any sort of permanent future between them in view.

If his affections could be cooled by only one of her children, how would he respond to her other six? Evangeline was glad there had been no opportunity for them to meet in private. No opportunity for him to ask again for her hand. The pain pricking at her heart would have paled in comparison to the pain she would endure if, once engaged, she found out he could not like her children.

During the party's last tea together, Adele looked at Basil several times, as if trying to catch his eye. Whenever she succeeded, she would quickly duck her head down with a bashful smile. Evangeline sighed inwardly. Adele had taken quite a liking to the one man present who wanted nothing to do with her. But when she studied Basil's expression, her heart twisted with confusion. Why would Adele's presence make him look so… sad ?

He left the room not long after on the barest of excuses.

The morning of her departure the next day, Evangeline did not seek Basil out to say farewell, and as she made her way to the carriage with Adele, all hope of him seeking her out faded. What would she do with the new longing she had to be in his arms? Would their friendship suffer after what had happened in the past weeks? Could one still be friends with someone they felt so drawn to? Someone they had kissed so passionately? It seemed impossible that they could go back to what they once had been after what had happened, what she had discovered of his real character. A new admiration of him had sprouted within her and was growing taller and stronger by the day, but now she was leaving, and he was nowhere to be found.

It was just as well, perhaps. Too much had happened between them for her to know what to do with her heart, and any more time spent in his company would only confuse her further. In him she wanted something that she could not have. The best thing to do was to retire to Amsbrook for the rest of the year. She would not see him again until the next spring, perhaps the autumn, if she chose to come up to town then. By then she would know how to manage. But there was a bright side to all this. The Complication would not have to be dealt with. There was no need for its hovering shadow to darken her hopes of the future anymore .

She, Adele, and Haney settled into their seats in the carriage. Another smaller vehicle carried Dobbs and the rest of Evangeline's luggage. She was just about to signal to the coachman to drive on when someone shouted her name.

Basil.

He jogged up to them and placed his hands on the edge of the window, slightly out of breath. "E—Lady Ramsbury," he corrected with a look at Haney and Adele. "I only wished to, to?—"

Evangeline waited while Adele and Haney looked on. Basil only stood there and pulled on his cravat. "Yes? Only wished to what?" she asked.

Tell her he was sorry for avoiding her? Sorry for kissing her until she lost sense of reality? Tell her she had forgotten a shoe? What?

"Right. Only to wish you a safe journey back to Amsbrook."

Evangeline waited for him to say more, for of course he would say more. He only smiled back, nodding slightly as if congratulating himself on a job well done.

A safe journey.

The tight smile she gave in return would frighten those who knew her well. Haney certainly stiffened at the sight of it. Curiously, Basil, who could be said to know her very well, did not seem to notice, his eyes flicking to Adele while he waited for a response. "Thank you, Mr. Morley. I am sure we shall be carried away safely and swiftly home on your words."

Basil tucked his chin into his cravat and pressed his lips together. Lips that Evangeline ignored with determination. "Mr. Morley," he murmured. "I shall always prefer Puck, coming from you, my Lady T. Farewell. Lady Adele, goodbye."

He backed away from the carriage and told the coachman to drive on. Evangeline worked her jaw and tried to make sense of what had just happened. He had recovered some of his spirits, it seemed. Well, bully for him. He was still in her black books.

"Why did he call you Lady T, Mama?" Adele asked. "You are Lady Ramsbury. Not Lady T."

The last thing Evangeline wished to do was explain an aspect of her convoluted relationship with Basil, but she said, "We are good friends, he and I. Sometimes good friends will call each other different names."

"But why?"

"Because they are friends and may do so if they like."

Adele dwelt on her mother's answer for a moment. "I like him. I think he is a droll man."

Evangeline closed her eyes. It was clear Adele admired him greatly, for only someone who fancied Basil would call him droll when he had done nothing amusing in Adele's presence during her whole stay at Fernsby Hall.

"He is a man whose youthful travels quite ruined him. I am glad we are going home," she replied with a snap in her voice. She did not need Adele harboring amiable feelings toward him. Feelings that, apparently, he had no interest in returning.

Haney, who had taken up some stitching, shot a look at her. A change of subject was in order. Haney had been Evangeline's own nurse growing up. There was little she could hide from her.

Amsbrook was situated near Hollyford fifteen miles from Fernsby Hall, and doubtless thanks to Basil's well wishes, the journey went without incident. Adele kept Evangeline amused with her expostulations on her new favorite cousin and how she was determined to host a house party of her own within the week .

"Why don't we start with something smaller, ma petite ?" Evangeline asked, laughing. "Tea, perhaps?"

Adele readily agreed and told Haney to take note of the guests she would have. Her enthusiasm included her mother and Haney, of course, and all the royal duchesses in England which only made Evangeline laugh the more.

"Certainly, you shall have your party, though I do think the duchesses will be otherwise engaged."

"Oh, but we have not said when it is yet. How could they be engaged if they don't know when it is?" Adele asked.

"Very true, my love. Just a feeling," Evangeline replied.

As Amsbrook rolled into view, Evangeline let out a sigh of relief, glad to be home again. Before they pulled up the drive, she saw the servants lined up, ready to welcome her home. In a second story window, a face appeared that made her grin. William's upturned nose pressed to the window disappeared an instant later, no doubt to tell his brothers that Mama was home at last.

She was not disappointed. A moment later, the front door burst open, and out ran her three younger sons, Simon, Gregory, and William, with Miss Pitt bringing up the rear. Each waved his arms wildly in greeting. The carriage had hardly come to a stop before Gregory began climbing up to take the reins from the coachman.

"I am glad to see you too, urchin," Evangeline said, poking her head out the carriage window.

Simon, ignoring the footman who stepped forward, opened the door himself and held it out wide. "Welcome home, Mama."

Evangeline gave a great, contented sigh. "Simon, my darling. Thank you. William, hold me tighter, sweetheart. Gregory, stop bothering Rob Coachman and come down and kiss me. Are you all well? No one is ill?"

Evangeline's heart shot straight up her throat when Gregory jumped down from the top of the carriage and rolled in the dust of the drive.

"We are all very stout," he said with a grunt as he gathered himself up. "We've been two days with only Miss Pitt looking after us. I reckon we can live by ourselves forever now."

Evangeline grabbed his waistcoat and dusted him off with a hearty hand. "Never say so. You must stay with me always. Until kingdom come, or until you can behave in a way that does not put me into an early grave. Come here, my angel."

She hugged him tight and planted a kiss on his cheek, which he wiped away with an offended hand. Evangeline laughed and spread her arms open to herd them all into the house. "Inside, everyone. Mrs. Griffiths, will you have some refreshment sent us? Stevens, everything is in order, I take it?"

"Yes, my lady," the butler, Stevens, returned, bowing while the housekeeper, Mrs. Griffiths, went to comply with her order. "The tutor was not at liberty to come look after the boys on such short notice but sent his apologies."

"Just as I expected. I hope they were not too much trouble for you, Miss Pitt? It is a great comfort to know I can always rely on you. Gregory, I do not know where your jacket is, but you may not have tea with us if you are not properly dressed. Come."

Evangeline expected to be tired after a three-week house party, but seeing her children again sent her to the rafters with joy. How she had missed them! She sat contentedly in her favorite chair in the parlor nibbling on scones and sandwiches while the boys told her of their adventures in Devonshire. Several of these tales had been told her in the letters she had received, but to see her boys act out plays of pirates and generals and Robinson Crusoes delighted her. Adele fell asleep on the sofa after only three bites of food, completely dead to the noise and ruckus of her brothers' report.

"It is a shame you had to return early, but I must say, I am glad we are all together again," she said when they had at last made an end.

"Not all," William said. "Ettie and Charlotte are not with us yet. And Henry." His face fell a fraction. Charlotte was his favorite.

"Right you are. But the girls will be back in five days, and Henry…well, I do not know what his plans are, but doubtless we shall all be properly together again soon."

The boys ran off to play on the grounds soon after. Evangeline smiled ruefully at their eagerness. She loved their wild natures but would feel more at ease once their tutor came back from his holiday and took charge of them once more. Most of the time she had not the heart to call them to order.

A footman carried Adele up to the nursery, and that left Evangeline to herself in the parlor, content to rest her eyes and bask in the comfort of her own home again. Soon the rest of her children would join them, and they would go on as they always had, playing, reading, picnicking, anything they pleased. Adele would have her party. The autumn assemblies would begin in a few weeks' time. Perhaps she could take them all to Bath to join her mother and father when they would go partake of the waters. There were so many things to do, likely she would not be able to think about Basil more than six or seven times a day, if that.